Page 69 of Waves
The seahorse-drawn carriage dipped to avoid a cross-current and my hand flew to the door handle, clenching tight as I tilted forward on the bench seat. My lime skirt swelled into a bell as I braced my feet to keep from pitching over.
“Are you alright?” Mateo asked, leaning closer and putting a hand on my knee, partially to help brace me, partially because we’d been riding in silence for the past two hours.
After we leveled out and I was sitting normally again, I shrugged within my polar bear fur shawl, not meeting his eyes but glancing over at Felipe, who sat beside me. My guard sat stiffly in the dark blue velvet cloak he’d been forced into by one of Gita’s friends, told he needed to look grandiose for our return to the capital. His expression was flat, though his eyes did dart over to me at Mateo’s question, wondering about my answer.
I didn’t want to lie to them, but I was far from alright. As far as one could be.
The tournament was canceled. Officially and finally.
I’d sent out messengers before bodies had even been placed upon the glacier in Kremos or returned home to their families—depending on their origin.
Felipe tried to reassure me. “There are no more public events right now. No more chances to attack.”
“I don’t know…” I hedged, uncertain, particularly since I suspected Raj was involved.
The whirlpool was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to his magical machinations—because witnesses had spotted rebels and a witch nearby watching the entire disaster. Watching and untouched… meaning that the whole thing was an unnatural creation.
It might have been a witch’s doing.
But I didn’t think so.
The start of the whirlpool was so sudden and unexpected.
I was certain it was wish magic.
It had to be.
“That witch has fled. I’m sure she has,” Mateo added, knowing what I was about to say since he knew me as well as the back of his own hand at this point. Or at least, the better parts of me.
I chewed on my lip and glanced at Felipe. My former guard simply stared back, his scarred eyebrow lowering as he frowned. He didn’t offer me false hope—Mateo might have needed to believe nothing bad was chasing us. Felipe had been trained to fight back…but also to expect a threat. I couldn’t help but think his silence meant agreement.
“I can’t brush away the feeling that there’s something more going on.” I stated as I dug at one of my cuticles.
People claimed the witch had turned on her companions in a fit of savagery, which again fit everything I knew of the sultan. He used others and discarded them.
Mateo said, “The rebels are dead, and the witch disappeared into the ether.”
“Along with Taft and Stavros,” Felipe added gruffly, eyes narrowing, sending us all into silence.
“I’d bet a thousand sand dollars that Raj had disguised himself as that witch.” I muttered.
“Possible,” Mateo responded.
That he’d been lurking nearby all along, stirring up magical attacks and rebels as he went.
Stirring up betrayal.
“Could it all just be a series of coincidences? Bad timing?” Mateo wanted to retain a bit of hope.
Together, Felipe and I stared him down until he cleared his throat and looked out the window.
“But why those two?” I asked one of the niggling mysteries aloud. It was a question that gnawed tiny holes into my sanity.
Why had Taft and Stavros disappeared?
“Were they involved somehow? Connected to Raj? And why didn’t I see it?” Hushed words dripped from my lips as prickles of disappointed self-loathing trailed across my shoulders. Instinct told me that the disappearances were somehow connected.
“I swear, even if Stavros did, I don’t think Taft had anything to do with it,” Mateo piped up, eyes looking so wide and innocent that it made me feel old and jaded in comparison. After everything that had happened, he still had faith in his friend. “He was injured. Badly. I don’t think there’s any way Taft left of his own volition.”
